


Someone caring where I am (all the time)

by HogwartsToAlexandria



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Bombs, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Hospitals, Love Confessions, Minor Injuries, POV Temperance Brennan, Rescue, Sappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27351973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria
Summary: She ran to find him, and found exactly that — Booth, and everything else they'd been preparing for for years.
Relationships: Seeley Booth/Temperance Brennan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52
Collections: Fic In A Box





	Someone caring where I am (all the time)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [igrockspock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/igrockspock/gifts).



There's fire, everywhere. The heat coming off the flames is burning her skin even as both paramedics and firefighters try to keep her behind the security line they've drawn up to keep curious passers-by away. She doesn't care. She files it away, but none of it matters. If Booth had listened to her, if he'd answered his phone instead of putting her on mute like she _knew_ he did when he had meetings with Caroline… if she'd been faster to discover the arsenic residuals in the victim's spinal injuries… if…

"Let me through!" Brennan yelled, "Let me through or my elbow and your solar plexus will meet right now and you won't be able to breathe for the next ten minutes. More if you insist on keeping me here before I can get to my partner!" 

"Ma'am—" one of the firefighters grabbed Brennan's arm again, getting too close to her face like people do when they're trying to make a connection with other, emotional people— like _Booth_ does with the family of the victims—

"Don't ma'am me! I am Temperance Brennan, I work at the Jeffersonian Institute in liaison with the FBI and I was _not_ , kidding," Brennan took a deep breath, "about this." And hit the guy who had the strongest grip on her dead-center on his solar plexus. 

She didn't waste time watching him try to catch a breath, all the other men who'd tried to stop her were doing that just fine. So she slipped through and started running. Same as she'd run through the halls of the Institute when she'd found out who the killer was. Same as she'd run through the parking lot to get to her car when Booth still wouldn't pick up her phone. 

Same as she'd pressed her accelerator as hard as she'd been able to in the middle of Washington traffic once Booth's office picked up and told her where he was. 

Right back at the murder scene. Right back where she was now and where fire was roaring. A bomb. 

She should have figured it out faster. 

She ran.   
  


* * *

"Booth! Booth!" 

Her voice echoed on the walls of the factory, again and again until the sound died or she shouted Booth's name again. She had to find him. 

* * *

"Bones!" 

He was answering! She could hear him! 

"Bones! Wake up!" 

Her eyes flew open, which was strange because she could have sworn she hadn't closed them. The light blinded her and something pulled at her arm. She blinked a couple of times, breathed in hard as Booth once again called her name. There was relief in his voice, but not the kind of relief she'd expected to hear when she found him. Not the—

"Thank God…" Booth whispered and Brennan both heard and saw him sit down, in a chair. A hospital chair. 

"What—" 

"He knocked you out, he hit you in the back of the head, he knew you'd come to find me, he—" 

"Slow down, Booth, slow down…" Brennan sat up, blinking again. She was in the hospital, when she'd thought she was back at the factory. 

She looked around, still trying to make sense of it all, trying to retrace her steps, but now that she was awake her memories were coming back and the pain— She hissed, putting a hand at the back of her head, feeling the evidence of what Booth had just told her. 

Just as she did so, she looked at him again, at the gash on his cheek that had been bleeding when she'd found him, at the scrape at his temple that now had stiches and the white bandages wrapped around his wrists where he was fidgeting on his lap. She looked up into his eyes, saw the relief she'd heard right before and tried to smile even though it hurt somehow.

"He tied me up and waited for you to come." Booth continued, slower than before, his residual panic gone. 

"He knew I would…" Brennan trailed off. 

"Of course he did. Just like I did," Booth smiled. "Of course." 

A minute passed. It was nothing unusual, the way they looked into each other's eyes, happened all the time, but for once, Brennan was aware that she did not want it to end. For once, be that because of the pain medication in her vein or some of the adrenaline she could still feel affecting her thought process, she did not want it to end and so she reached out for Booth's hand. Moving her arm so was painful too, and Booth himself grimaced when he immediately reached for her too, but they held hands, and it felt right. 

"When can I get out of here?" Brennan said, a few minutes later, trying to trample the warmth inside her that always came with being the subject of Booth's staring. 

"Doctor said he'd rather keep you under observation in case you have a concussion—" 

"I don't." Brennan cut him off, not unaware of the little smile Booth gave her. 

"Chinese?" 

* * *

It was nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to get her head spinning like it did right then. They had eaten takeout on Booth's sofa a thousand times, on a thousand of different occasions. And yet it did.

Brennan's heart was racing and she could hear her own ragged breathing pattern. Adrenaline, still. Surely. 

But then Booth's shoulder brushed hers as he reached for another box of noodles, and she watched him smile at her. Again, like he'd done so many times before, but it felt different. 

It wasn't the case, it wasn't the bomb. They'd done that in the past too, rescue each other from killers who took too much of an interest in their partnership. 

"Booth?" 

He was still watching her, his eyes scanning her face in a way that did not allow her to regulate her heartbeat. 

"Bones." He whispered. As if that answered anything. As if her nickname was any clue to what he was thinking. 

Brennan struggled to hold onto her chopsticks. She let them fall into her container. She struggled to stay put under his gaze. She tried to scoot back a bit, and more of an answer came from Booth — one of his hands, freeing itself from holding onto his food and catching her forearm. 

"I knew you'd come." Booth whispered again, the words taking a minute to construct meaning inside Brennan's mind, inside her heart. 

"Of course you did," she replied, not sure she did a great job of masking her fear. 

"No," Booth squeezed her arm, "You don't understand. I _knew_." 

Brennan shook her head, despising the tears that wet her eyes, "I don't know what that means." 

"Yes, you do." 

"Booth what—" 

"—I think it's time," Booth told her, and Brennan was hyper-aware of his leaning forward, of the distance between their two bodies closing, the space between their two faces vanishing slowly. "I think we're ready." 

Brennan swallowed. He was right, she hoped he was, she wanted him to be. So she nodded. 

And he kissed her. 

It wasn't the first time they did that either, and still it felt like an entirely new discovery. 

Booth's lips were chafed, his teeth pressing behind them, crushing their mouths together. Brennan let go of her food, not sure she cared if she managed to put it on the table — she let go of her food and cupped Booth's face with her hands, felt his angular jaw, and the rougher feel of his stubble, and the soft, so soft, feel of his hair where her fingertips touched behind his ears. 

Brennan gasped, and Booth took it as her opening up to him. Truth was, she felt pliant, melting in the touch of a man she'd wanted for so long, had cried for, had lived for for so long. She was opening up at the same time as he was barging in. He was always barging in — even when he gave her all the time in the world to be ready for this, even when he simply stood by her side; a simple look, their gazes meeting... he barged into her mind and set camp so long ago...

Her arms wound around his shoulders and neck at the same time as Booth drew back for air, but instead of moving away, he wrapped himself around her, like his whole body was swallowing her and Brennan was okay with that. She welcomed it, made herself fit into his chest, made herself curl into his embrace as they kissed again, and again. No trace of time passing remained as she lost herself in the burn of their lips meeting again and again and her heart finally quieted. Her head didn't hurt anymore. She didn't hear herself screaming Booth's name in fear anymore. All she heard was their mingled breaths escaping around the seal of their joined mouths. All she heard was Booth's voice in her mind — "We're there, we're ready." and he was right. 

Brennan had been preparing for this for years, both consicously and not, and this was it. They could do this. Because they knew. They knew the other would always come. They had that. They had someone who always cared where they were and what they were doing. They had each other to think about how they were and if they were safe — at all times of day and night and over years. It was proof enough. She was finally open to this and it was happening. 

Booth would always come. She would always find him, whether she was the one searching or he was. It would never go away — it was a strange thought but no longer a ridiculous one. Not all relationships are temporary. Some last for life. Some are meant to hold your hand throughout life itself. Some are built to be the one thing you hold onto no matter what. 

Booth would always come. She would always find him, whether she was the one searching or he was. It would never go away — it was a strange thought but no longer a ridiculous one. Not all relationships are temporary. Some last for life. Some are meant to hold your hand throughout life itself. Some are built to be the one thing you hold onto no matter what. 

Booth would always come, and she would always find him.

Somehow, Brennan found herself sitting on Booth's lap. Somehow, Booth's hands made their way under her sweater, the warmth of his bandaged hands seeping everywhere he touched her. Somehow, it wasn't enough. 

"We're ready." Brennan murmured against Booth's lips, "Seeley," she bit her lip, watching the way his smile grew as she used his first name, "We are. Ready." 

Booth nodded. And then got up, carrying her as he went, and walked, to his bedroom. 

They both sported bruises, some new and fresh, some old and almost faded but not quite. Bruises that told of their life together, of a partnership they both cherished, of bravery they found in needing one another and in being fueled by the same ideals. Getting naked was easy, even though Brennan had thought about this a number of times, it was easier than she thought it would be. Even when she tried to rationalize it and tell herself it would only ever be sex, she was comfortable with sex, even good at it, so it wouldn't make sense to be nervous about getting naked. It was still easier than she'd thought, and even without having really touched each other yet, she also knew it wasn't just sex — she'd been wrong. Things were never _just_ this, or _just_ that when it came to the two of them. 

"I love you." Brennan gasped, when Booth was lying on top of her and his arms encased her face and she felt safer than she ever had in her life. It took both of them by surprise, Booth chuckling as his eyes widened before, again, he kissed her, and again, laughed, and watched her as he replied. 

"And I you, Temperance." 

Outside of science, things were rarely only one thing, rarely only had one meaning or explanation or consequence — and those very simple words, they made her cry, and they made her laugh, and they made her wrap her arms and legs around Booth and turn them around. 

"I know," she said, smiling so much her cheeks hurt. 

"I know." Booth nodded, brushing her hair back out of her face. 

Booth would always come. And Brennan would always find him, because that was how they worked, and because they needed each other, and because they were the person who would always care where the other was. They were each other's person, and that meant that when Brennan bent down to kiss Booth again, she knew that this was never meant to be temporary, but that good things take time, and they were finally ready.


End file.
